


How to (not) steal a Book in one lesson

by Zeckarin



Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [47]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Algernon doesn't like to share, Bickering, Gen, Hospitable Aziraphale, Humor, Queerplatonic Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Ted the Mummy, The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter - Freeform, and cocoa, attempt at robbery, cakes, prompt 11: Hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29358738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeckarin/pseuds/Zeckarin
Summary: When London's best thief received an offer to "retrieve" a book from a dusty shop, he decided this was the perfect opportunity to send his two children on their first solo mission.A bookshop in Soho? Easy target, right?What could happen?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: And they were roomates... (but there were two beds) [47]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1523585
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	How to (not) steal a Book in one lesson

**Author's Note:**

> I had no idea where I was going when I started writing this one, but it kind of wrote itself.

It was dark in the bookshop, the only source of light a dim, pinky hue that filtered through the dusty windows from the neon sign of the store on the other side of the street.

Slowly, the door handle lowered, and a discrete, metallic sound resounded. With a _click_ , the door opened. Two dark silhouettes entered, silent as ghosts.

From under a shelf, a little white mouse considered the newcomers with all the contempt of a cricket enthusiast forced to watch a baseball game. Algernon _hated_ black clothes. Black clothes usually meant his pet angel was about to devote most of his time and attention to someone else.

And these two were wearing even more of it than the stupid demon he’d been forced to live with these last fifteen months*.

*Algernon hated indeed people in black clothes, but to be perfectly honest, he hated people in any other clothes.

These two had to _go_.

Squinting his small, beady eyes, Algernon furtively disappeared in the shadows.

“Jo!” whispered one of the humans. “Jo, Look at that!”

A flash-light illuminated the till.

“Leave that, Liz, the good stuff is in the back. Follow me.”

Algernon hurried across the backroom, hiding behind the couch, and considered his next move. No bare ankles in sight, but the combat boots didn’t intimidate him. He’d bitten through thicker in the past.

The ray of light wandered around the room, and stopped abruptly on the armchair in the corner.

“The _FUCK_!” shot out Jo.

“Shh! Are you mad? The owner is living upstairs!”

“Liz, there’s a mummy! It’s a freakin mummy!”

“No way. Must be a Halloween decoration.”

“On _February_?”

“Forget about the _mummy_ , Jo!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, you’re not the boss!”

“Course I am, I'm the oldest.”

“By _twenty minutes_!”

“Twenty-one, and don’t you dare forget it.”

With a grumble, the first human moved the light, pausing on the shelves next to the fireplace.

“Must be there. Go look. Leather bound, and green with gold writings on the cover.”

“I know what it looks like, Jo, I was there when dad showed us the pictu-- _HOLY FUCKING CHRIST!_ ”

Liz jumped back, and staggered on a pile of books.

“Don’t yell! What did you see?”

“Remember that online review telling the owner had a giant pet snake? That was no lie.”

The flash-light settled on black and red scales, coiled over the bookshelf.

“ _Fuck_ , it’s huge. What kind of snake is _that_?”

Liz pried the light from her brother's hands. “I don’t care, as long as it stays asleep. You go get the book, I’m not touching that thing.”

A grunt interrupted them, followed by a yawn. “Ok, first of all: _rude_. And second: How in Heaven do you want anyone staying asleep with all this ruckus?”

Jo and Liz froze on the spot.

“Turn the light off,” murmured Jo.

“Oh, right, because if you turn it off, I’ll forget you’re here,” mocked the strange voice.

Liz slowly turned on herself, scanning the whole room, until she got back to the shelf.

“Where’s the fucking _snake_?” she squealed.

“Trying to nap”, answered the Voice from the couch’s vicinity. “Can you _at least_ rob us in silence?”

Trying to hide the tremors in her hands (she _really_ didn't like snakes), Liz oriented the light to the couch. A man in a dark suit was sprawled over it like a particularly expensive bedspread. She idly noted that he was wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night. He grinned, then looked towards the entry to the room and grimaced.

“Hey, angel. Did we disturb your reading?”

The light turned on in the backroom.

Jo and Liz whirled around. Here was the bookshop owner, sporting the disapproving glare of a schoolmaster about to ground the entire class.

“What _on Earth_ is happening here, Crowley?” he asked sharply, looking past the robbers at the man on the couch.

“Wh--why are you looking at _me_?” answered Sunglasses. “I didn’t do a thing!”

“I refuse to think these two poor intruders screamed that way for no reason.”

“I was sleeping! They yelled at me and I was just _sleeping_!”

The shopkeeper turned to Jo and Liz. “I dare say that is quite rude. You simply cannot disturb honest people’s sleep all willy nilly!”

“Oi! M’not _honest_!”

Taking advantage of the situation, Jo slowly slid his hand in his pocket, and held out his butterfly knife*. “You! Shut up, and move away!”

*He wasn’t looking at Liz, but knew his sister was rolling her eyes. Jo had cut himself twice already since he’d bought it. But he _was_ going to master the moves.

The owner blinked and looked their way like he had completely forgotten about their existence (he had).

“Let us get out, and _nobody_ will get hurt,” added Liz in a calm voice, sending a pointed look to her brother.

The bookseller tutted. “Oh, but it would be awfully ill-mannered of me to let you two out in this cold without at least offering you a hot beverage first. Do we still have cookies, Crowley, dear?”

The red-haired man rolled his eyes in exasperation*.

*Even with the sunglasses, the movement was unmistakable.

“They were there to rob you, Aziraphale. You’re not supposed to _feed_ them.”

“Do not be absurd, dear boy, those two nice men who tried to take the till last year _loved_ my brioche,” declared the fair man, heading towards the stairs.

Jo exchanged a look with his sister. Maybe _now_ was a good time to run for it, they decided in a silent exchange.

Before any of them could move, something brushed Liz' ankle, and a sharp pain shot through her right foot. She looked down.

The white mouse sent her a murderous glare.

Neither Liz nor Jo had been particularly repulsed by mice in the past, but Algernon's eyes would have terrorized an army.

Pointedly, the mouse opened its mouth and let a perfectly shaped square of leather fall to the floor.

The shrieks had Aziraphale hurry back down, a plate covered in pastries in hands, but his two guests were already far away*.

*They got home with a tale of mummies, giant disappearing snakes, and psychopathic mouses. Their father wisely decided the shop had suffered some gas leak and his children had hallucinated.

“What happened?”

“Don’t accuse me, it’s _him_ ,” said Crowley, pointing to the fluffy creature.

“Oh, _Algernon_! That was very naughty of you!”

Unfazed, the mouse licked his front paws and started to clean his ears.

Aziraphale looked down at his plate forlornly. It was covered in pastries. “Now what will I do with all this?”

Crowley let out a sympathetic noise. “I’m sure it will still be good tomorrow, angel.”

“But I made cocoa for four. It will go to waste if we do not drink it right away.”

The demon shook his head fondly and snapped his fingers. The coffee table found itself miraculously free of the multiple books it had sported one second ago.

“Let’s have a tea party, then. I’ll go grab the cocoa,” declared Crowley, heading to the stairs and pretending to ignore his angel’s grateful smile.

Humming happily, Aziraphale started to dispose the cakes on the table. He knew his friend was about to spike the hot chocolate with a heavy dose of brandy.

Well, he couldn’t very well thwart that particular wile in the middle of the night, could he?

Even angels had to take some time off once in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Algernon, the killer mouse^^.
> 
> Alsoooooo, I THINK my brain is asking for some hurt/comfort right now... just so you know.
> 
> Tomorrow's prompt is "Who are you?"
> 
> //Laughs maniacally//


End file.
